


The League Of Shadows (<3) H.Y.D.R.A.

by NegativNein



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Captain America (Movies), Dark Knight Rises (2012), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, I Tried, Implied Relationships, M/M, Minor Character Death, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 14:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5970954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegativNein/pseuds/NegativNein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Batman is dead, and Tony comes back from Gotham with a <i>terrifying</i> bodyguard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The League Of Shadows (<3) H.Y.D.R.A.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is new, and dark, and currently a one-shot... let me know if it works? Please? Please, please, please?

Tony, for once in his life, felt really stupid. He should have seen this coming. He should have known that defeated Nazi rejects and kicked-down Fascist mystics would find common cause and take their revenge. H.Y.D.R.A. was back, with the League of Shadows providing the muscle. And Gotham was once again the theatre of blood. Now that Robin Blake kid Bruce had left things to - his city, his legacy - was hanging upside down the flagpole of Gotham's city hall, **_dead_** , in a borrowed, too big bat-suit.

Mockery.

Insult.

_Bait_

And Bruce was, no doubt, already en-route to a pointless, way too late heroic rescue. The idiot was going to get himself captured. And exposed. And killed, this time. For real.

Tony would have to sort it out before it came to that. He had failed to get through Bruce last time, some dark mix of anger and jealousy (jealousy over Bruce's overwhelming grief for poor dead Rachel) preventing him from reaching out. 

Not this time. He left a message with Alfred, and set off.

He thought about involving the Avengers, but the evil team-up would be as ready for them as for the Batman. That ruled out borrowed Bat-tech too. No Iron Man, no backup, no Bat. Just brains.

Brains, Tony had. And one trump card: his mother.

Maria Carbonell had been the rebel daughter of an old Gotham family. And Tony had inherited her love and knowledge of all the seedy parts of town. Which meant he knew how to get in undetected. 

Tony opened a trapdoor, emerging into Gotham after a long underground trek, and found himself facing the business end of a knife. Wielding it, a rather sad looking clown.

"Hello, beautiful"

"...hi?"

"What brings you to my fair city? Not the best time to visit, if I -ah- may say"

Tony saw no point in lying "I'm getting the Bat boy down. Now kill me or let me through, I don't have time for this"

The clown twitched once, violently, but kept his grip on the knife "No-uh. Batsy, _my Batsy_ , has to come. I've been -ah- waiting"

"He'll be touched, I'm sure. But no, if he tries he'll get captured. I'll take the poor boy to Gordon's men and _then_ Batman can come back and save this rotten city... I won't let him walk into a trap. Now, let me through"

The clown pocketed the knife and put one hand on Tony's shoulder "I'll come with"

"To city hall?"

"And to meet the Batsy"

 

*  
They do it, easyly enough, under the radar. Steal a car, get the boy's body to Gordon's men, who are barricading at The Palisades, and get out like bats out of hell. (Gordon gives Tony a _look_ when he spots the clown, but does not say anything).  
*

 

On the way back, the clown was feeling chatty.

"Wanna know how I got these scars?"

"Let me guess: you ripped the muzzle out when you where in the chair, right? Then you killed your handlers, escaped, drifted until you got to Gotham and heard the legend, saw the Bat."

The clown was aghast, a blank expression taking over his suddenly slack face: "How do you know?"

"H.Y.D.R.A. made you, it's in the archives. Your memories of the night may be fuzzy. Your memories before that may be implanted. A few may be real, though."

"My past is multiple choice, right... WHY?"

"An experiment: they made something called the Winter Soldier in the Fifties, a brainwashed assassin, sniper, handy with a blade too. With you they tried not for a soldier, but for a terrorist, a destabilizing force to be unleashed on the unsuspecting populace"

The man was trembling "An agent of chaos"

"Yep. I have all the info on file, you can read them once we get home"

"Home... where was my -uh- home? Do you -ah- know my name?"

"Jack, Jack Napier. I don't know much more, you were fifteen when they took you in, 'pretty, quick with a knife' the file says..."

"And no one...?"

"You were an orphan and, well, working in the streets?"

Jack was processing: a past, a _name_ , the smell of the leather seats in the shitty car they stole, Stark's carefully modulated voice and fake offhand manner. Surprisingly, he felt grateful for the latter.

He would keep Stark alive, and close. And H.Y.D.R.A. would burn for what they did to him. And the League's mooks would burn with them for all they did to his Batsy.

Speaking of which: "How do you know my Batsy?"

"We're married"

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, not sorry, John Blake.


End file.
